Lukien couldn’t help but admire his candour. He already knew a fair amount about the young lieutenant. Breck had told him that Van had come from Norvor with King Lorn, and that he was driven to prove himself. Guilt did that to men, Lukien knew. He supposed he had much in common with Van.
‘You’ve done a good job here, Vanlandinghale,’ said Lukien. ‘These walls — they’re tight and well laid out. If it does come to war-’
‘It will, Sir Lukien, it will.’ Van began mixing his barrow full of mortar distractedly, muscling the shovel. ‘You should know that. You know how devious Jazana Carr is, how determined.’
‘Aye, I know that,’ said Lukien. ‘But you underestimate Baron Glass, I think.’
‘Do I?’ Van stopped mixing and stared at him. ‘Then where is he? He left almost a week ago.’
Lukien grimaced. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I’m worried about him.’
Van grinned and went back to mixing. ‘I thought as much. Maybe you don’t know your friend as well as you think.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Lukien, his ire rising.
‘It means that you’re a fool if you think he’s got any chance at all against Jazana Carr. Oh, I know all about his famous armour; I’m not impressed. He walked into a hornet’s nest with a hat on, that’s all. If he’s not dead already he will be soon, just as soon as the queen gets what she wants out of him.’
‘Fellow, that’s my friend you’re talking about,’ Lukien rumbled. ‘Just a warning — watch your tongue.’
Van sighed and pushed aside his shovel again. Leaning against the stone wall, he looked at Lukien. ‘I know he’s your friend. So what are you doing about it? Breck told me you came here looking for him. He said you wanted to help him.’
‘I do,’ said Lukien. ‘That’s why I’m here, waiting.’
‘Waiting won’t do your friend any good,’ said Van.
‘Neither will building a wall.’
The soldier shrugged. ‘At least I’m doing something.’
There was logic in the statement, Lukien supposed. While everyone else was simply waiting, Van at least was active. But what could be done, Lukien wondered? Waiting was his only option now. His anger diminished, he went to the tall pile of stones and ran his hand over them, not sure what to say. Vanlandinghale watched him curiously.
‘Want to help me?’ he asked.
Lukien nodded. ‘I should. At least I’d be doing something.’
Van smiled. ‘You’re probably right about it, though. It probably won’t help. But we have civilians to protect. We have to try, at least.’
Maybe that’s all it’s about, thought Lukien. He picked up a stone and weighed it in his hand. ‘Maybe that’s all there is to life,’ he said. ‘Trying.’
‘I think so,’ said Van. He surveyed the walls he had built with a gleam of sadness. ‘I’ve had time to think while I’ve been here. I don’t think my life is just about staying alive. I think it’s about standing up for something I desperately believe in, like this place.’ Then he laughed. ‘That sounds silly, I suppose.’
‘It doesn’t,’ said Lukien. ‘I think it sounds just right.’
‘Do you? King Lorn the Wicked taught me that.’ The soldier shook his head. ‘Of all people to teach me a lesson about life. But he was right, about that at least. I owe him a lot. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘About to die,’ added Lukien good-naturedly.
‘Probably,’ Van admitted.
A long silence rose between them. At last Van went back to working on his wall.
‘The others have been talking about you,’ he said. ‘They say you promised Breck to stay with us.’ His eyes flicked toward Lukien. ‘Is that right?’
‘That’s what I told him,’ said Lukien.
‘Hand me a stone, will you?’
Lukien hefted a stone from the pile and handed it to Van. As the soldier buttered it with mortar, he said, ‘We always talked about you, us Royal Chargers. Even after Akeela died when I was in Norvor — all the Chargers with me talked about you.’ He turned and fixed the stone into position. ‘We’re glad you’re back.’
Lukien said nothing, but took another stone from the pile and handed it to Vanlandinghale.
By the time evening had come, Lukien was famished. He had spent almost the entire day with the enigmatic Van, and was eager for the evening meal. The main mess — a giant, converted reading room with long tables and benches — was always a place of good conversation, even when the food was meagre, and Lukien sat himself down at the table with the other officers to enjoy the company and fare from the kitchens. When the sun went down the mess always filled up, and tonight it was particularly crowded. Most of Breck’s inner circle were at his table, including the former mercenaries Nevins and Aliston. Aric Glass was there as well, sitting beside the gruff Murdon, a loyal Royal Charger whom Lukien had not yet gotten to know well. Vanlandinghale had not yet come for the meal — an oversight that plainly irked Breck — but the other tables were packed with his men, all the horsemen and archers and infantry fighters that had spent the day idle yet had somehow worked up an appetite. Besides the military men there were civilians at the tables as well, the men and women and even children who kept the library vital. Except for the formidable kitchen staff, who took their meals after everyone else had been fed, it seemed to Lukien that everyone in the library was in the mess tonight, including Mirage.
Mirage sat at a table across the mess, chattering with Breck’s wife Kalla and some of the other women of the library. As Lukien ate and talked with his own comrades, she occasionally glanced toward him and smiled. Striving to be polite, Lukien always returned her smiles, maybe adding a nod but never being too encouraging. Mirage looked beautiful, he realised, and found himself stealing glances at her between dunking bits of bread into his stew of venison. More importantly, she looked happy, something she had never been in Grimhold. But his long day with Van had given Lukien much to think about, and he knew that soon Mirage’s happiness would end. Perhaps unintentionally, Van had convinced Lukien of the hopelessness of their plight. Knowing he would soon have to confront Mirage, Lukien nevertheless smiled as he ate his meal, determined to at least enjoy part of the gathering.
To Lukien’s pleasure, the talk at the table was not of war or Baron Glass’ mission or Jazana Carr’s enormous wealth. Instead, Captain Aliston the archer told a good story about growing up in a small Liirian village and how he had nearly drowned in a creek when he was a boy. The tale opened the door to a plethora of similar near-disasters, and by the time it was Breck’s turn to talk he brought Lukien into the story.
‘Do you remember, Lukien?’ asked Breck, smiling with a mouthful of food. ‘That time you almost fell off one of the catwalks in Lionkeep?’ Breck turned to his men and laughed. ‘He wasn’t a boy, mind you — he did it as a dare!’
Lukien grinned, though the memory wasn’t all pleasant. ‘I remember hanging by my fingertips waiting for you to pull me up.’
‘We were always doing stupid things like that,’ said Breck. ‘When you’re young it’s easy to be dumb.’
Murdon messed up Aric’s hair and said, ‘Hear that, boy? Don’t be dumb.’
Aric had been particularly quiet the entire meal. Lukien guessed he was thinking about his father. ‘Stop calling me boy,’ he hissed, pulling away from Murdon.
Murdon plucked a chunk of meat from Aric’s plate and popped it into his mouth. ‘Sour-face.’ He looked around the table. ‘So? Where’s Van tonight, eh?’
Breck frowned. ‘I’ve talked to him about this. He’s supposed to be here for evening meals.’
‘He’s got an independent mind,’ said Murdon. ‘Always did. Likes to go his own way, Van.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ said Breck, and went back to eating.
‘He’s working on the walls,’ Lukien volunteered. ‘The ones at the west wing.’
Breck nodded. ‘I noticed you working with him today. They coming along?’
‘Well enough. Did you give him that assignment?’